Like the Day Loving the Night
by P.B. Fluff
Summary: Lirael/Nick set after The Creature in the Case. Nick has come back to Belisaire with Lirael. Mostly Lirael's and Nick's thoughts about one another with a dash of fluff thrown in! Rating mostly for swearing - rating may go up
1. Chapter 1

Oneshot Lirael/Nick (cause I think this couple is friggin' adorable) set after The Creature in the Case. Nick has come to Belisaere with Lirael after the incident with the Hrule. Mostly Lirael's thoughts about Nick and her feelings about him with unabashed fluff thrown in at the end for good measure. Enjoy!

P.S. Don't own the characters.

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His presence had been weighing on her mind ever since they'd both come back to Belisare, an awkward affair to be sure, considering his crossing of the wall had been difficult and his and Lirael's journey to Belisare had been filled with a quiet apprehension. When they did talk, Lirael found she enjoyed the conversation. He was intelligent, that much was obvious, and had an inquisitive mind, and it made her sad to think how such a delightful thing in a person had been taken advantage of and twisted when Orranis had used him.

He was sweet. He was kind. It was obvious he'd grown up in a family of privilege. That his life had been mostly happy, if not somewhat jaded as he grew older and learned more of the politicians he was related to. Lirael found herself fascinated by how happy his young life had seemed. She knew hers could have been worse, but she also knew she hadn't had the happiest of youths. Mostly, she was fascinated by the way he spoke of his family, like an outsider, the hint of loneliness in his tone not lost to Lirael's ears. She was reminded of how for so many years she'd been surrounded by numerous cousins and yet detached, lonely, different.

His dazzling smile had startled her with its brilliance. To her it gleamed like the rising sun of a new day, a stark contrast to the small, shy smile she'd given him, the smile she was used to giving, a pale fading star that barely shown in twilight by comparison. _It would be like the Day loving the Night_, she thought, if he loved her, a stiff shell of someone who'd kept to herself so long. It was a thought she was surprised to find herself thinking after she'd spent a few short weeks feeling extra pangs of self-consciousness around him, particularly when she noticed his eyes on her.

So when he'd followed her out the hall after the messenger had come to tell her of urgent business she or Sabriel was needed for, she was oddly delighted and yet again, oddly apprehensive, awkward, shy.

"Lirael," he called, half jogging to catch up, for he'd delayed just a moment, and Lirael had taken off at a brisk pace. "Lirael," he said again reaching her and putting a hand to her arm, gently pulling her back.

She looked down at her arm, and, as if embarrassed, Nick relinquished his gentle grip at once. "Yes?" she asked still looking down at her arm, uncertain of looking up at him.

"Are you...?" She chanced a glance up at him and she felt it was fateful, at once she felt she should, and yet couldn't look away, and she felt her cheeks turning red. "Are you... well.."

"Yes?"

"Well, you're returning, aren't you? I mean to say, when this is all over, you'll be back, in Belisaere, won't you?" he seemed at once to be in a hurry to say the words and yet reluctant to say them.

She paused a moment. "I think so. That is to say, I have a lot to learn from Sabriel yet so it is likely. Though when one day, hopefully a day long from now, I am the Abhorsen the Abhorsen's House in the Ratterlin will be my true home."

"Oh..." the color rising to his cheeks seemed to steal his words for a moment. "I... well, what I mean to say is, well... good." He finished lamely.

"Good?"

He smiled his cheeks red as ever. To Lirael, he looked like a glorious summer afternoon, the light sprinkling of freckles across his face like rays of sunshine peaking through a few clouds on an otherwise clear day. A day as clear and clean and crisp and blue as his sharp eyes. "Um... Well, yes. Good that you're coming back I mean."

"Oh." Lirael smiled and blushed again, she could feel the red rushing even more fervently to her cheeks. "Um... good then."

For a moment, that seemed to be it, so Lirael prepared herself for saying goodbye, but he cut across her again, again taking her arm, this time drawing her closer to him. "This... this, disturbance. It's.. it's dangerous, isn't it?"

Lirael paused again and replied, "All Abhorsen work is. But Sabriel said it would be something I could handle on my own, its one of the Lesser Dead. But she is coming as well, as a precaution. So I think it should be alright, despite the danger."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yes well... what I mean to say, well - " he seemed to have given up on words and thrown any hesitance to the wind and his sentence ended with his impulsive kiss. It was clumsy at first, neither kisser being particularly well practiced, Lirael being too shocked at first to respond, was the lesser experienced of the two. But the imperfection of it still took Lirael's breath away, she could feel in it his concern for her safety and the feelings he couldn't yet put into words.

They broke apart, both with a look of apprehensive shock on their faces. Nick spoke first. "Well - please do be careful. And I look forward to - I mean -" he ran a hand through his hair, seemingly frustrated with his lack of eloquence. "I mean, I should.. I should be very glad to see you again."

"Yes," Lirael whispered clumsily, meaning she would be glad to see him again too but she only had composure enough for the one syllable response. It was enough. They flew at one another again, their lips clumsy, hearts pounding for one last kiss before a parting of an uncertain amount of time, but one that would end with the promise of more to come.

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Review please!


	2. Chapter 2

Right, so, remember when I said this was a one shot? I lied. I forgot that writing fanfiction could be just as addictive as reading it. I'm not sure really where I'm going with this to be honest. I'd love to know how things develop with Nick and Lirael and how Nick comes into his own in the Old Kingdom, though really I'm not entirely sure how the heck it can happen, which I suppose is appropriate being that they're not my books. Anyway, if you want a disclaimer re-read the last part of the previous sentence and enjoy the fic!

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Lirael's and Sabriel's return to Belisaere was fast and without any turbulance but still wearying. Lirael had found that even if she wasn't the one to whistle marks for a paperwing, she still could not quite let herself get comfortable enough to sleep in one, regardless of how tired she was. It reminded her of the first time she'd seen her sister.

Of course, she hadn't known she was her older sister then. Then she had only known her as the Abhorsen Sabriel, wife to the King Touchstone.

_"No faith in the driver,"_ she remembered hearing Sabriel saying about Touchstone's discomfort in paperwings. So when Sabriel shouted over her shoulder "we should be there soon without any hitch" Lirael shouted back loud enough to be heard, "I have faith in you." Sabriel turned back for just the smallest of moments to give a brief smile.

Lirael thought about the smiles Sabriel and Touchstone had shared that day, a secret sort of joke shared between the two of them. They'd seemed so warm together. So comfortable. She stopped herself before wondering if there was something so tangible between her and Nick. Nick seemed to be all her thoughts wanted to gravitate towards but Lirael was simply too tired to let herself ponder the exact intentions of Nicholas Sayre or what the future might hold for the both of them.

The afternoon was waning by the time they reached Belisaere, and Lirael was glad that it meant she would get a bath and some sleep followed most likely by a good hot dinner. Though she was hungry, she was even more tired and dirty and after her bath and changing into a fresh shift she didn't even have the energy to nibble on the small plate of bread and cheese the sendings had brought her.

She awoke much later than she'd intended, and she presumed she'd missed dinner. She was ravenous though and Sam had introduced her to some of the friendliest cooks in the castle. She hoped that perhaps one might be persuaded to allow her a snack. The sendings had whisked her bedside plate away not long after she'd drifted off.

She was somewhat surprised to find everyone still dinning.

"Aunt Lirael!" Ellimere called to her. "Oh good you're awake! We've only just started."

Lirael came forward and took her seat next to Sameth, all the while carefully avoiding Nick's gaze. She found herself suddenly even more shy in his presence, though how that could be she couldn't fathom.

"We decided to have a later meal," Touchstone explained as she sat.

"Nice of you to wait until some of us had a chance to rest," Sabriel said.

"We weren't sure if we should wake you," Nick began, awkwardly.

"And then I told them I could still hear you snoring from my workshop so it'd probably be best to let you sleep," Sameth cut him off.

Lirael's jaw dropped, "You - you could?"

Everyone laughed and at first Lirael thought they were laughing at how loudly she snored. But surely someone would have mention it to her by now? Until she was twelve she'd slept in a dormitory in the Clayr's glacier and for one anxiety-riddled moment she wondered if perhaps no one had mentioned it to her because she'd already had enough to be embarrassed about as a sightless Clayr.

It was Nick who came to her rescue, "We couldn't really," he said quietly.

Sabriel followed suit. "No, but we did think it best to let you sleep. You looked awful when we got back."

"Oh," was all Lirael could say. After a pregnant pause she finally finished with, "thanks." She tried hard to keep her gaze away from Nick but couldn't resist sneaking glances until he caught her glance and their eyes met. Momentarily mortified, though she couldn't think why, Lirael promised herself she wouldn't look at him again until the meal was over, breaking the self-made pact only twice when Sam began explaining how his Charter Magic lessons with Nick were going, which, she had reasoned to herself, was fine, since everyone else's attention was also fixed on Nick.

"How is your magical education going?" Sabriel enquired.

Nick shifted awkwardly. "It's difficult."

"Don't listen to him," Sam interjected. "Used to being top in everything, he is. Can't take it if he doesn't get everything right on the first try. Even though I try to tell him I've never known anyone to pick up on everything so quickly."

"I'm still not very good," Nick protested, seeming embarrassed. "I'd be useless in any fight or anything."

"Yeah but you have most beginner things down already. Nick, that usually takes years, if not at least months. Not weeks, like with you," Sam insisted.

"I think a demonstration of your learning is in order," Touchstone spoke up. "Show us something you've learned, Nicholas."

Nick looked decidedly uncomfortable at that and Lirael found herself feeling sorry for him. It was never easy being put so on the spot, that she knew.

At last however, it was clear Nick was not going to be leaving the table without at least a minor demonstration of his to date proficiency, so he yielded, holding up the fork he had just used.

Charter marks flowed from his long fingers to the utensil and Lirael recognized them as simple marks for color. The fork began to flash different colors, first red, then purple until it became a consistently changing rainbow. After a few moments Nick seemed to have deemed his demonstration complete and performed the marks to allow the fork to take on it's original color. For a moment, the fork was normal, but then it seemed to vibrate in his hands. Then, before Lirael realized it, the fork was gone, shriveled up into ash which became smoke and blew away.

It was Touchstone who first broke the silence that ensued. "I won't say that result isn't strange, but it IS common for beginners to make mistakes. The important thing is, you obviously understand the concept, otherwise the fork would not have changed to begin with. And as Sam said, it does appear you are understanding more quickly than most."

Nick nodded, still staring resolutely at the spot where the fork had disappeared and muttered a low, "Thank you,sir," in response.

Dinner ended quickly after that, everyone seemingly anxious to dissipate after Nick's charter fiasco, Sameth being the last to leave, cuffing his old school friend on the shoulder and promising that he'd help him go over the charter marks again the next morning. After agreeing to Ellimere's request that she practice tennis a little more with her the next day, Lirael couldn't help peeking into the dining hall again from the corridor where she stood.

Sure enough, Nick still sat at the table, looking dejected and confused, idly staring down and tugging at one of the buttons on his shirt.

Lirael waivered for a moment and then finally decided to enter the hall.

He looked up as she entered, returning her gaze with one she was certain must have mirrored her own, a complex, yet hopeful sort of smiling frown, at once confused and frightened, delighted and deflated.

She stopped halfway to the table. She wasn't certain she trusted herself to go further.

She took a breath, reminding herself she had nothing to be frightened of now the Nick was no longer an avatar for the destroyer. "It isn't all bad," she said. "Just because you're the first person any of us have known to learn charter magic the way you do, doesn't mean you are the first person to learn it the way you do. And even if you are, that doesn't mean you're wrong. Just... different." She spoke the last two words with a rueful sort of knowing, smiling slightly to herself. She took a breath and moved closer again, this time coming to stop at the seat across from him, resting her hands on the high back of the chair.

Nick sighed, but he seemed less dejected as he replied, "I know. It's just, I can't figure WHY it keeps happening. Everything I used to care about seemed so exact. But this... " he shrugged, "It isn't. My father said that's why he always loved painting. You didn't have to be exact, not with the image he said. But with the emotion." Lirael didn't say anything and he went on. "And it's funny now, but the more I look at it now, the less there was explained by all my science and mathematics. It wasn't exact anyways, not always. I suppose this is what it means to grow up. Things you always thought were so you find aren't always, and things you never dreamed you'd think become your new mottos."

Lirael didn't know what to say to that. Though she felt that in a way his words ran true for her as well. She was a Clayr, but would never See the future, only the past.

Nick continued, "It makes me think what sort of horrid idiot I must have been to overlook so much during that business of the hemispheres. And how horrid you must think me."

"What do you mean?"

"There I was going on and on about how there was nothing wrong with the Dead and here you fight them every day. I was an arrogant fool to think I would know better than someone who had lived here their whole life. Someone who's pledged to keep her country safe from the Dead no less."

"You didn't know really. You couldn't have known."

He looked up at her, a challenging sort of questioning glance. She faltered. "Well - yes, I suppose you could have listened to how many people told you otherwise, but I can understand how easy it is to get so wrapped up in the way you see things because of where you're from, who you are."

"What do you mean?"

"I - well, you know I was a daughter of the Clayr and that the Clayr are known as Seers. You even know that I did not inherit that gift. But what you probably didn't know was how.." her voiced dissolved into a whisper, she still couldn't bear to speak it more loudly, "how devastated I was when I first had to accept that I would never have the Sight. For so long, it was all that mattered to me. So even though when I found out I realized I would have a new family and a new calling as Abhorsen, I still - I still felt somewhat sad. Almost as though I'd lost something. Which was of course ridiculous, since I never had the sight in the first place."

"I'm sorry," Nick said, and he sounded sorry. Against her will, Lirael found herself retreating behind her curtain of hair, feeling vulnerable after having divulged so personal an experience.

"Don't be," she said before she could stop herself. "I'm not." she was surprised to feel the truth in the last two words.

He smiled and stood, crossing around the table to where she stood. "Good," he said taking her hand. "Because I think you're pretty terrific, Sight or no."

Lirael blushed and looked down. "Thanks," she whispered.

He took a deep breath and said, "I hope you haven't thought me too forward, because of our last - "

She cut him off before he could finish, "No. I - I didn't." She blushed even harder.

He blushed as well. "Oh. Um - good then."

"Good?"

"Well -" he grinned, still blushing. "I would be very glad to kiss you again."

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Review please!


	3. Chapter 3

"Damn, damn, damn, damn, DAMN!" Nick shouted, chucking the wilted bit of metal he'd been working with for over the past hour straight at the wall. It bounced off and skidded onto the bench of trinkets Sam had designed, knocking several over.

"Damn!" he shouted again for good measure as he made to pick up Sam's inventions. Working magic with inanimate objects was difficult, Nick couldn't figure how Sam did it so easily. Since Nick's dinnertime charter fiasco, Sam had insisted a more, what he called, "hands on" approach. The trouble was, whatever Nick got his hands on, seemed to disintegrate, at some point or another. The only thing that he could track as some sort of progress was that he'd noticed that sometimes the items would disintegrate at different rates and in different ways. He'd even learned to control the rate and way of disintegration to a degree, though not entirely.

He had an inkling as to why his magic worked differently, and he suspected others did as well though did not want to raise the subject. He couldn't help the sinking suspicion that the reason every item he performed magic on disintegrated was because of the bit of Orranis still stuck inside him. It made him feel dirty, contaminated somehow, and it made him worry that the next person he touched would turn to dust.

Which was why he shuddered violently when later that night Lirael touched his cheek with her gold hand as they walked alone together in the gardens.

Lirael did not miss the shudder and did not think it was an accident that the first time she'd touched his skin with the golden hand he recoiled. Immediately Nick felt his insides turn to mulch at seeing the hurt in her eyes but before he could explain his reasons she spoke, making the mulch ablaze with firey guilt.

"Sometimes it repulses me too," she whispered. "I look down at it some days, still surprised to see that it's there when it feels so much like my regular old hand. I feel horrible hating it too. It was sweet of Sam to make it for me."

Purposefully, he took her golden hand and said, "I'm not repulsed. I'm..." he looked down, not sure of how to explain. He looked back up at her, noting how she nervously parted her hair with her free hand. She was so good, there was so much innocence about her, despite all she'd had to go through. She'd fought in the deepest reaches of death and had still somehow emerged with more patience and consideration than most people he'd met had to begin with. She was – he knew it sounded like lovesick bollucks to say so, but to him, she was almost like some sort of angel who'd rescued him from a terrible fate. To him, he was the darkest shadow of the night, hoping to win the love of the purest light of the day.

"You're what?" she piped up, pulling him out of his reverie, and reminding him that he hadn't finished his sentence.

"I'm... responsible."

She looked up at him, questioning.

"It's not that the hand itself repulses me. For the most part, it feels like a regular hand, even to me. It's – it's what the hand reminds me of."

"Oh," she said softly, the word floating on the moment.

"I – it's my fault. And you suffered so much and it's all my fault. I was so stupid."

"I thought I told you to stop worrying so much about that. From what you and Sam have told me of that night in Ancelsteire, if it hadn't been you, it would've been Sam. Someone would have been used. And the same thing would have happened. Only then we might have had one less person of the blood to ring the bells. In a way, it's almost lucky it was you."

There was a pause.

"Not that you were lucky, really."

Nick frowned. "I'd just as soon rather it have been nobody."

"Yes," Lirael said seriously. "So would I. I suppose lucky really would have been Hedge getting blasted to smitherines by lightning that night. But he didn't. And that can't be changed."

"I'm still sorry."

"It wasn't your fault. And you're being sorry still doesn't change anything."

"No, but I feel like..."

"Like what?"

"Like feeling guilty for it somehow makes me a better person or something," he finished lamely. It sounded stupid, even to him. And he could tell Lirael was not impressed.

She looked beautiful to him, even completely exasperated but still in some ways too shy to fully express her exasperation. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," she said.

"Me too," he admonished. "But there's more. I – I'm worried about my learning about the charter."

She said nothing, only nodded.

"I mean, things are still always worse for the wear after I perform magic on them. You don't think... perhaps it has something to do with the, with that, um, bit of in my blood, that, um, what did you call him?"

"Orranis."

"Er, yes. Him. You don't think that's got something to do with it, do you?"

She studied him seriously, biting her lip on the corner. "I don't know," she admitted. "I've considered it. It's a possibility. If that's the case, you may not be able to perform charter magic in the conventional way at all."

"You mean I won't be able to do it at all?"

"Well, yes, and no. Think of the way Sam casts spells a lot of the time when he creates things. It's a lot different than a regular charter mage. Or the way Sabriel and I use the bells. It's different because there's free magic involved. Unfortunately, like Sam, since there's no one alive who's ever been in your shoes, it might be something you'll have to learn for yourself."

Nick thought about that for a moment.

"I hate not knowing," he said, sitting down on one of the garden benches. He knew it sounded juvenile, but he didn't care.

She sat down beside him. "You'll figure it out. It'll just take time."

He squeezed her golden hand, and she smiled at him.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hurry, get IN there!" Lirael shouted at him, shoving him toward a doorway behind her whilst trying to wield her bells against the mordicant.

"Just come with me," he begged, grabbing her arm. "We can both get away to safety."

"Just go!" she shouted, the rain sopping through both their wet clothes. From what she had told him about creatures of the dead, this one had to be strong since it was still out in pouring rain. It didn't even seem to slow it down at all.

"But-"

"Now!" she shouted, slashing at him with Nehima. "Go, or I kill you myself."

He gave her a last desperate look, then surrendered to ducking behind the doorway. As soon as he was inside, he saw the sending meant to coax him forward but he couldn't bring himself to, knowing Lirael was still out there, fighting the dead thing. He knew she was tough, tougher than most could guess. He even knew she'd done this sort of thing before. Her golden hand was proof of her evil-fighting, humanity-saving experience. But he still couldn't keep from worrying.

It was when he heard above him what sounded like a nasty crunch and a surprised and worried shout from Lirael, that Nick did something both very brave, and very stupid. He emerged from his forced hiding and ran out to tackle the mordicant. At first, he felt somewhat victorious for having knocked the mordicant to the ground so easily, but he realized it was only the element of surprise that had helped him do so, and the mordicant was quickly getting over its surprise. Lirael was on the ground still, looking badly hurt, but she was getting to her feet. Nick again, made a split second decision. He grabbed the mordicant by the throat and brought to mind all the charter marks he'd learned and read about for destruction, disintegration, and disabling. Soon, he found he was forming marks he'd never even heard of, faster and faster the marks flowed until Lirael, having pulled herself up finally shouted, "STOP!"

On cue, Nick's hand dropped and he slumped to the ground, suddenly exhausted. For one terrible moment the mordicant leered over him, while Lirael redrew Kibeth, her favorite, and rang it simultaneously with Saraneth. "I command you to walk back into death, past the final gate, and return to life no more." The bells' tones hung in the air, and the last mark from Nick's charter cast flowed from his fingertips to the mordicant. Nothing happened. And then suddenly a very many somethings happened very quickly. The mordicant's oily black-green mass dribbled onto the ground like melting wax, then burned like oil in a lamp, down to a sickly black pool, the pool froze over, like a pond, and amazed, Lirael saw in the reflection of the pond, the image of the mordicant walking through death, only the mordicant was changing as it walked. It became a vulture that swam-flew through the river and into the ninth gate where it soared up to the stars, until it looked as though its shiny feathers were reflecting the bright light of the stars. It glowed brighter until Lirael realized with a start that the bird was on fire and flew even higher into the sky until it became nothing but smoke which soon disappeared against the black of the sky. Then oily pool then caught fire again until it was ashes. But then the ashes began to move. Frightened, Lirael peered at the moving and realized what was moving in the ashes, reforming from the ashes, a flock of insects, locusts, their leather skin inky black. Horrified, she watched as they tore at each other the way they would tear apart crops until all of them were dead. Then their bodies flickered with electric blue lighting, crackled, and were no more. All that was left was the scent of burnt oil.

Still stunned, Lirael had no idea what to do next, except to yell at Nick.

"I thought I told you to go to safety!"

"If I had you'd be dead!"

"You don't know that!" she shouted, as they hurried along the corridor.

"Right, because you had it all under control."

"At least I knew what to expect, and what to do!" she yelled back, jumping across the river water to the first jumping stone.

"Oh, that's a lot of good if it's still going to get you killed!" Nick shouted back, so nettled and angry he didn't bother getting nervous following her and jumping across the river to the stones.

"I wasn't going to get killed."

"You could have just come with me, like I asked. The thing couldn't have crossed this water, that much I know."

"Oh, and leave it to terrorize other communities? I think not. You just don't-"

"What?" he yelled, interrupting as they both made it safely to the other side and were being let in by further sendings.

"You don't get it, do you?" she demanded, taking the towel from the sending and attempting to dry herself off a bit, angrily rubbing it against her wet clothes so hard her skin itched. "This is my JOB. I can't just not try to eliminate some dead thing, just because it might kill me. I can't just retreat because I'm afraid or in danger. If I did I'd never get anything done. And you-"

"I what?"

"You can't just keep barging in trying to keep me from doing things," she said, poking him in the chest as she made her demands. "When I said you could come with me to retrieve some things from the house it was because I was hoping it would be a relatively safe journey."

"Three dead things-"

"Two morduats and a mordicant," she talked over him.

"-would prove it has been otherwise," they both finished in unison.

"I did not," she continued, throwing aside her towel angrily, "allow you to accompany me to do foolish things. I did not ask you to put your life in danger. I did not ask for your assistance or your council," she finished, pulling her hair out of its braid with an agitated look, and using another towel from the sending to dry out her hair somewhat.

"So I'm useless."

Lirael stopped and looked up as Nick angrily threw aside his towel. "I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

"I didn't mean-"

"Do you think I don't know that I'm like an overlarge piece of luggage for everybody? Like some bomb everyone's transporting. Careful, it might go off!"

"Nick-"

"I'm tired of it! I'm-"

"I'm tired of your excuses," Lirael cut him off. "That was stupid and you know it. What were you thinking?"

She wasn't shouting this time, and that frightened Nick more than her shouting.

"Well," he admitted, "I uh... didn't exactly think it through before acting."

"Oh, that's reassuring," she said, coldly.

"Look, it's not like I was trying to be difficult. I'm just sick of seeing you struggle so much. I – I wanted to help."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "I know. But most people can't help with this stuff. What you did tonight..."

"Was pretty cool wasn't it?" Nick grinned, in spite of himself.

"Was also pretty stupid. You had no idea what you were doing, and frankly, you got lucky. Lucky it worked in our favor, and lucky you didn't hurt yourself."

She was closer to him now, her tone less angry, and more worried.

"I only wanted to help because I -" he shifted uneasily, "I care about you. I couldn't stand it if-"

"I know," she said. "But that's only an if. You can't worry so much about me." She moved closer to him. "I'm fine," she whispered.

"That's good. Not fine would be, um, not good," he murmured stupidly, her lips close to his.

"Huh?" she asked, pausing.

"Nevermind," he said, kissing her roughly, pulling her in by cupping her face in his hands. He was suddenly overcome with the need for her mouth against his and the need to hold her, to physically asses that no harm had come to her.

The desire to kiss him was overwhelming, Lirael clung to him, her arms around him, her hands in his wet hair, on his neck, at his shoulders, pulling him closer to her.

"Ouch," he whispered as she pulled him closer.

Lirael pulled back. "What is it?"

He pointed to her armor, the part where the shoulder covering met the chest covering was digging into his upper chest. Wordlessly, she moved her hand to the straps that held her armor and fumbled with them, an unfamiliar hand helping her this time, his hand, fumbling along with hers. With two hands it should have taken no time, but his hands were unfamiliar with the process, and she was distracted with the need to continue kissing him. Together they undid the straps for one shoulder, then the other, and her armor clattered to the ground. Wordlessly, he puled her closer, their wet clothes sticking together, Nick acutely aware of how her breasts pressed against his chest.

It wasn't the removal of clothes really, but it had felt enough like it to make Lirael scared and excited all at once, pulling him closer, her hands gripping at his neck as she kissed him fervently, working underneath the collar of his coat, and sliding her hands down to his shoulders, his coat moving with her hands, his shoulders shrugging the sleeves down as she pushed the coat all the way down his arms and he shrugged the garment completely off.

"Nick," she whispered, her hands traveling back up his chest to his shirt collar, tracing the buttons of his shirt and tugging at the top button. She fumbled with it for a moment, then got it undone, and let her hands explore his lower neck and collarbone. She never would have thought herself forward enough to do something like this, but at the moment, it seemed to come naturally, and he pulled away from her mouth to gasp. She remembered the first time she'd seen him in the Clayr's vision, how she'd wanted to touch his neck, and she was overcome with a sudden desire to kiss it. Cautiously, she planted a soft kiss on the right side of his neck. She felt him shiver and he gasped again, his hands tangling in her hair.

"Lirael," he whispered, his whisper sending a hot breath ruffling through her hair, making her entire head tingle. She kissed the left side of his neck and he let out a low groan. Tentatively, she kissed his collarbone, and he responded by kissing her neck.

She gasped with pleasure and surprise. His hands rose to trace her neck but there were no buttons for him to fumble with. Vaguely, he fumbled with the neckline of her surcoat, his hands tracing the top as he kissed her and finally he seemed to realize that the only way to loosen the surcoat was by loosening her belt at the waist. His hand slipped down to her belt, tracing her breast along the way. His hand came to rest at her belt, both their hearts beating fast, they had never gotten this far during any of their trysts in Belasaire. Their kisses had always been stolen in empty corridors or lonely gardens. Their relationship wasn't exactly secret, but it had been an unspoken agreement between the two of them not to publicize it. Considering they were rarely alone in Belasaire, there'd never been much time for ripping eachother's clothes off.

Suddenly, Lirael became aware of how very alone they were. There was no one in this house except for the sendings, who wouldn't interfere. Even now the one that had handed them towels was standing there silently. Lirael blushed, though she knew the sending wouldn't pass judgement.

Nick seemed to have realized the same thing, for he pulled away suddenly, and they both studied each other, their eyes wide and their lips swollen.

Nick cleared his throat and spoke first. "We should um.. you, know, wash up. Dry off."

Lirael nodded as if in a daze.

Nick bent to pick up her armor and Lirael hurriedly made to pick up his coat.

"Here," they both said, handing each the other's garments.

Impulsively, they kissed again, Lirael feeling as though her heart was melting right through her chest.

She kissed his jaw and they pulled away from each other again, and again stared at one another. This time, Lirael forced herself to look down at his coat, still in her arms.

"Um, here," she said, handing him the coat.

"Oh. Right. Here's yours," he handed her her armor.

They both looked down again. "We should... get dry." Lirael suggested again.

Nick nodded and there was another pause when again he suddenly grabbed her and kissed her.

Lirael forced herself to pull away quickly, and she thought Nick understood. She half feared if she didn't she'd stay down there and kiss him until they both starved to death.

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Author's Note: so uh, it should come as no surprise after that chapter that the rating for this fic may go up in future chapters. I'm not promising anything, mostly just because I'm notoriously bad a fizzling out on longer fanfics. But if I'm correct in how I think this story will pan out, it won't be too many more chapters. Anyway, things will likely get steamier if I'm not a lazy butt and continue this, so don't be surprised or offended if you see this with an M rating.

Also: forgive any mistakes I may have made with describing the mordicant (or how to banish it, looking through my copy of Sabriel again, I'm not sure it ever even went into detail on how to do so, but I figured it would be similar to how she was able to defeat other dead creatures. Also, forgive me if I'm wrong with the bell names, though looking through I think I got it right Saraneth being the bell that can command and Kibeth being the walker, but again, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong!

PS: reviews are always welcome!


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: a few things, I realized upon re-reading that Nehima was actually destroyed in the breaking of the Destroyer at the end of Abhorsen, but for the sake of the story (and my laziness) we're going to pretend that Sam mad her a new Nehima. Second, I don't own this, so consider this story disclaimed.

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Lirael let the sendings undress her and help her into the bath. She was still too much in shock to protest the help of the sendings and their insistent scrubbing while she sat in the bath. It felt good to be in the hot water after the chilly rain, and she sat in the bath long after the sending had finished scrubbing her and had resumed a position next to the tub, holding out a towel, impatiently waiting for Lirael to step out.

She sat as the water slowly grew colder, clutching her knees to her chest, her lips still tingling from the feeling of Nick's against hers. She suddenly became aware that she'd merely left him at the entrance to the house where they'd both turned and all but bolted different directions. She wondered if he'd be able to find his way, but then, she hadn't been shown around by anyone her first time in the house, and the sendings had lead her to a room just fine. He was probably enjoying a bath as well in a room somewhere else in the house.

The thought of him naked in a bath made her blush, even though no one was around and could read her thoughts, and she couldn't help again feeling somewhat intimidated by how quickly a few fervent kisses had turned into... what, exactly? What were they doing really? As someone who'd grown up the Clayr's glacier, she'd never really been schooled in the world of romance. This sort of thing in the glacier would have happened much more quickly and would have lasted only one night. She'd always known in the outside world people married, or took on lovers for extended periods of time, but she'd been so focused for so long on getting the sight and _then_ worrying about taking someone to the Clayr's perfumed gardens, she'd never really given much thought to the idea of romance, prolonged or no.

So now? What exactly was supposed to happen next? Was there some sort of process she didn't know about? And what exactly was she hoping for anyway? Marriage? How exactly did that happen, assuming it was what they both wanted. She wondered what he wanted. It was obvious he enjoyed her company and had feelings for her, but other than that... what? And what did she want? If she was being honest with herself, she wanted their relationship to continue even though the uncertainty scared her.

She finally stepped out of the tub, too confused to continue her thoughts, and too focused on trying to do something to keep her thoughts away from Nick to worry about facing him again. She hurriedly stepped into the clothes the sendings held out for her and stepped out of her room, hungry, and hoping to find something to eat. She turned a corner on her way to the kitchen and found herself right outside the library. Inside stood a freshly bathed and clothed Nick, his dark blonde hair still a little wet and slightly wavier than usual from the dampness, holding one of the books open, studying the contents with apparent interest. He adjusted the new glasses Sam had made for him, since his ones from Ancelstierre had crumbled in the Old Kingdom, and looked up, upon which he saw Lirael. They locked eyes and the book in Nick's hands slid to the floor.

"Oh! Um, hello," Nick stammered, obviously thrown off guard.

"Hi," Lirael replied shyly, suddenly unable to look him in the eye.

He scrambled to pick the book up and banged his head on the table which sat next to the chair nearest the library shelves. "Ow!" he exclaimed, and Lirael rushed forward to help him.

She took his arm, and bent to pick up the book. "Are you alright?" she asked, as he clutched his forehead with his free hand which she noticed for the first time was bandaged. The hand he'd foolishly clutched the Mordicant with must have been attended to by one of the sendings.

"Yes, I'm alright," he said, rubbing his forehead and adjusting his glasses again. "Just a little embarrassed," he admitted. "No lasting damage, I assure you."

She smiled as she moved to put the book away, her hand breaking free of her grip on his arm and his hand following to meet hers. She turned after putting the book away, still too embarrassed herself to meet his gaze. But when she finally did he looked just as awkward and unsure of himself as she felt.

He cleared his throat. "Look, Lirael, I – I want to apologize for – for not listening to you. I –"

She held up her free hand, "It's alright, really."

"No, it isn't. Look, you were right, I – I can't just do that, I can't just do unpredictable stuff like that, it was reckless. And, well, I didn't realize it at the time, but I think it – it was sort of a slap in your face. I mean, you've done this sort of stuff before, you know what you're doing. Me – well..." he trailed off, paused, and then held up his bandaged left hand. He cleared his throat again. "You were right. I'm lucky I got away with a blistered hand. If you hadn't told me to stop, I'm not sure what would have happened."

"I have an idea," she said darkly. He raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "I once tried to shout a ton of spells that were beyond me at the same time. I – I could barely speak for months. My throat was badly hurt. I recovered, but slowly. The healers told me... I could have died, Nick. That's what happens when you try to do too much charter magic that's beyond you. You need to be careful. It's a wonder you aren't exhausted."

"I am," he admitted. "Though the washing up and so forth helped. I imagine I'll probably sleep pretty soundly though." She nodded and took his bandaged hand in her golden one, smiling wryly in spite of herself as she looked down seeing the image of both their maimed hands together.

"Aren't we a pair," he said, and she saw that he was smiling a wry smile too. She wanted to kiss him again, to tangle her hands again in his hair at the base of his neck and feel her body against his. She blushed at her thoughts and was again shy.

"I was just going to find something to eat," she began suddenly, seeming to realize it again as she said it.

He cleared his throat and blushed too, though for what she couldn't imagine. "Right. Er – mind if I join you? I could use a bite after all the excitement."

"Sure," she said.

They didn't need to go far, however. The sendings seemed to have heard their requests for food and brought them both steaming hot drinks and plates of fresh bread, butter, and an assortment of dried fruits; apples, berries, and pears. The sendings set the trays on the small table which sat between two chairs nearest the fire.

Nick smiled at the still shy Lirael. "Shall we?" he asked.

She smiled and nodded. "Be my guest," she managed.

"Aren't I already?" he asked.

She smiled again. "Then why are you helping me into my seat?" she asked, her cheeks burning like the fire the sendings had started in the hearth.

"Ladies first," he joked.

"Ah," she said with mock knowing. "A true gentleman."

He gave an over-exaggerated bow and Lirael giggled. He then sat down and began to help himself.

They both sat in silence for a time, munching. Though Lirael felt shy, she noticed the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It felt warm to sit there in silence with him, warm as the fire in the hearth.

"So," she began, in between bites of cheese. "What were you reading?"

"Oh just looking through some charter spellbooks. I thought it might do me some good seeing as well... anyway, I thought it might do me some good."

Lirael nodded.

"Why, is there any particular book in this library I shouldn't go rooting about looking at?"

Lirael shook her head. "Not that I know of. Though in the Clayr's library there were several volumes that could be potentially dangerous. The book that instructed me on the basics of becoming the Abhorsen-in-Waiting can kill any who is not of uncorrupted charter and is not ready to read its contents."

"Oh," Nick said, unable to keep the bit of cheese he was swallowing from getting stuck in his throat at the fear this statement struck in him and the complacency with which Lirael spoke it. He realized once again, that this was one of the first things he'd admired about her, her toughness and her resolution to the truth of things. She was never frivolous or silly, and her seriousness impressed him. Though he often felt she was sad and he wondered what she was thinking whenever she would retreat into her sad silences. The silences were never awkward, and that was another thing he enjoyed about her company, but they made him wonder if she were recalling past events that had caused her pain. He'd guessed enough from what the Dog had told him and what Lirael had divulged, that she'd had a rather lonely and troubled childhood, followed by a turbulent transition into young adulthood.

Nick had never completely told Lirael or anyone else all the details of his discussion with the Dog in Death, mostly because at first he hadn't the energy for much more than "dog..... sent... me back" that fateful day of the last stand against the Destroyer, but partly because as time wore on and Nick thought about it, he couldn't keep from wondering what the Dog had meant when she'd said Lirael had hurts that would require a different kind of healing. The more romantic part of him often wondered if perhaps the dog had meant for them to become romantically involved. When he was feeling especially dreamy he'd wonder if the Dog had sensed the strange attraction they'd had for one another, even from the start. His memories of those days were hazy, so he couldn't quite remember if she'd shown any weakness for him but he remembered his questioning whether she were Sam's intended and telling her all about his Lightning Farm, in part, due to his desire to impress her. He remembered that towards the end, remembering Lirael meant he remembered himself, and when he became too weak to physically do anything himself, it became imperative that Sam tell Lirael that he tried, that she not remember him in a poor light.

Finally, the silence made Nick, overcome with curiosity ask, "What are you thinking about?"

She took her time answering. "I was thinking how different things are. With you here and all now. And how you're still sorta the same kind of person, but different."

"I had the same irresistible charm then I suppose?" he couldn't help but joke.

She laughed. "If you call it charm. You threw a boat at me."

He blushed remembering. "Right... erm, sorry about that."

She laughed. "It's alright. I ducked. Besides, I knew it wasn't really your fault." He nodded and another long silence followed. Finally she asked, "Why, what are you thinking about?"

_A million things_, he thought. _How beautiful I thought you were when we first met, how beautiful you look now. How intimidating I find you. How bad I feel for having put you through so much and nearly killing you and everyone else. How stupid I was to think that first time we met that I could impress you with my faulty science. How badly I want to kiss you right now._

Finally his thoughts centered on one memory he hadn't recalled until now and he couldn't help but blush.

"What is it?" she asked.

"You saw me naked," he blurted, before he could stop himself.

Lirael's heart stopped. Certainly she'd been thinking about him naked while she'd been in the tub, a thought she couldn't dwell on for fear she might die of embarrassment, but she was certain she hadn't walked in on him. Unless he could somehow tell she'd been thinking it, and that too was a horrifying thought. Finally she chanced a glance at him and at once the memory flooded back. His thin body changing when she and the Dog had gone to rescue him. Her heart resumed its normal rhythm, though now the beat was a little faster. She still couldn't help but blush, even though she knew she hadn't intended to see him naked and at the time had been so worried about a million other things the nakedness had been the least of her troubles. Even so, she couldn't look him in the eye when she said, "Yes."

This time the silence got awkward as they both sat not daring to look at one another, each one steadily growing a brighter pink in the face. Finally Nick cleared his throat and Lirael looked up. Their eyes met and a moment later they both burst out laughing.

Lirael clutched her stomach as she laughed and couldn't help but half-shout her weak defense in between laughs, "you" laugh "threw" laugh laugh "a boat" laughing "a boat at me" more laughter.

"That was a present," Nick burst out absurdly, laughing. "An Ancelstierrian custom!"

They both laughed even harder, Lirael had tears forming in her eyes she was laughing so hard. She couldn't remember a time when she'd laughed so hard or felt so happy. The kindgom held all sorts of ills stirring out in the pouring rain, but for tonight they were inside with hot drinks, a roaring fire and a serious case of the giggles.

Finally the laughter subsided and Lirael took another sip of her tea, the water having grown slightly cooler. Lirael smiled over at him as she set her cup down again, noticing finally that he did look ready to fall asleep at any moment.

"We should get some sleep," Lirael suggested. Nick nodded.

"Yes," he said. "I'm afraid I am spent for the evening." He made to pick up his plate but Lirael told him to leave the sendings to it. "Of course," he'd responded, pushing down with his hands on the arms of the chair to lift himself up and walked beside him and once they were both out of the library they turned to one another, Lirael again looking up at him shyly, Nick feeling as though his collar were too tight.

He cleared his throat, but Lirael spoke first, pointing up the stairs. "Um, my room is this way. If you... need me for anything." He nodded and pointed to the room the sendings had washed him in earlier. "Right, I'm, er, the other way down this hall. If you... need me for anything." There was another pause as they both stole glances at one another.

She took a deep breath, stood on her toes, and kissed him quickly and said, "Goodnight."

Where before Nick had been feeling happy and drowsy, now in the wake of Lirael's soft kiss he felt a powerfull emptyness revive him. Summoning the last of his daring, which, he told himself, it was silly to still be nervous since she'd kissed him senseless earlier, (not to mention, _had_ seen him naked upon their first meeting) he held her by the waist and kissed her again, a soft kiss without the hurry of before. Her mouth was warm and soft and moved with his, his heart bursting with the sweetness of it. "Goodnight," he whispered, releasing her and leaving her at the bottom of the steps that lead up to her room.

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Ack! This story's getting longer than I thought! I do intend to finish though, just might take me a while so reviews are always welcome!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I'm not Garth Nix.

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Lirael slept restlessly when she finally drifted off that night, her thoughts set to a grueling pace chasing around her mind. What exactly had the Dog been doing sending him back here? It wasn't as though Nick had merely needed some healing, or had been rescued. He'd died. She'd watched the life drift out of him over Sam's shoulder, but of course then there had been so many more lives at stake, she hadn't even had the time to process the status of Nick's. As far as she'd known then, she had expected to follow him into Death, to pass into the Ninth Gate and beyond. But when the Destroyer was bound and broken and all was said and done Lirael had found herself alive and suddenly Nick was too, claiming the Dog had baptized him and sent him back. But why?

It made Lirael blush to think the Dog had spared them both in order to give them both the chance for a romantic endeavor, but she'd wondered sometimes, and she couldn't help but remember the Dog's initial response to Lirael's explanation of why they were on Finder after impossibly pulling the Dog out of her pocket. She'd said, "Good. It's about time you were bred." Lirael blushed again at remembering the dog's response, and knew it was foolish to think the Dog had intended to play matchmaker.. Still, what _had_ the Dog sent him back for?

She sat up to cross the room and took the soapstone statuette of the dog off of the dresser top she'd placed it on earlier before the sendings had hastily stripped her for her bath. She clutched the dog and crossed the room again, back to her bed still holding the dog, and curled up underneath the blankets.

"I wish you were here now," she whispered to the dog, still holding it in her hands. "I miss you."

She was unsurprised to find when she awoke later to find that she had fallen asleep clutching the little dog and unsurprised that she had awoken to another nightmare. They were still common, only now they more frequently featured a world in which she had failed to defeat the Destroyer.

She was; however; surprised to find that the screams she awoke to were her own. This nightmare had been worse than the others. This time Nick had become one with the Destroyer, a giant, lightning filled avatar with glowing eyes and smoke for hair and every cruel laugh as he walked obliterated everything around for miles.

She was also surprised when, while sitting, still trying to keep from shaking, there came a soft rap on the door.

She cursed inwardly. It could only be Nick, and he could only be coming to make sure she was alright, and she could only bring herself to feel embarrassed. Surely her screams had awoken him.

She wiped the tears she hadn't even been aware of moments before and called, "Nick?"

"Er – Lirael?" he called back.

"Yes?"

Pause. "Are you – are you alright?"

_No_. "Yes, I'm fine."

Pause. Working hard at keeping her voice steady, she called, "Did you need something?"

Another pause. "Well, no – I – Lirael this is silly, both of us talking to the door. Can I – is it alright if I come in?"

Another pause, but Lirael dared not let the pause extend too long. Before she could change her mind she called, "Um, yes I suppose so." It was amazing the amount of panic a few moments could warrant. Flustered, she smoothed the creases in her nightgown, pulled her blankets above her knees, then threw them back to put her slippers on because that seemed appropriate, then pulled the blankets back up over herself, pulled her knees up to her chest, and tried her best to smooth her hair with her hands as the door handle turned.

She stopped fidgeting as soon as the door opened, even stopped as she was still trying to find the best way to sit, so she found herself half sitting up, still facing the side of her bed where she'd turned to get her slippers, her knees drawn up to the edge of the bed, throwing her whole self off balance, without even the headboard to lean against for stability.

She clutched her knees to keep her balance as he entered.

"I – I thought I heard something," he started.

Lirael swallowed. He was now only a few feet away, and she could only bring herself to stare at her knees.

"You don't have to tell me what's wrong if you don't want to."

Lirael could only nod.

He was now standing next to the bed in her line of vision, and motioned to the end of her bed in questioning. She nodded again and he sat down facing the door and looked down.

"I – you didn't wake me," he said into his lap. "I wake up a lot on my own."

She finally met his gaze. "Nightmares?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Sometimes. Most times it's what my brain cooks up while I'm awake though."

"Like what?"

"Oh, I've just always been the sort who could scare myself pretty easily without any outside help. I think it's why for the longest time I refused to believe anything I heard about the Dead. And probably why when I was growing up I was one of the first to start claiming I didn't believe in ghosts or magic or anything at all really. The theory was if I didn't believe in it, it didn't exist and if it didn't exist it couldn't hurt me."

Lirael didn't know what to say.

"Stupid, right?"

She still didn't know what to say, but she finally looked him in the eye.

"I still have dreams about it sometimes. Where not only do I help the Destroyer but I become him. Knocking everything apart with a bunch of stupid science experiments. Hurting people. I know you said not to worry about it. And I don't, most of the time. But at night, when it's quiet, I can't help thinking about it. It scares me."

Lirael couldn't keep the second wave of tears from coming and hurriedly tried to wipe them away, but she could tell he heard the small sob that escaped her. She was embarrassed and she hid her head in her hands, but now that the first tears and sobs were out she couldn't keep the rest from coming and she cried out of fear and for the Dog and for Nick who had suffered so much and still tortured himself.

His hand came to rest on her shoulder. "Hey," he said softly. "It's alright."

She sobbed again and he sat patiently with his hand on her shoulder while she cried, until finally the tears subsided and she chanced a look up at him. Before she could even think about it she'd flung her arms around him and he held her while another wave of sobs washed over her.

"It's alright," he repeated, his chin near her shoulder so that his words tickled.

"It's just not fair," she said. "You didn't deserve to have to go through all that and now you blame yourself and... it's just not fair."

He didn't say anything.

"It's no wonder your family thought we had you for ransom when you were here. We practically did."

He laughed. "Oh they got over it. Besides, it's not as though your government had anything to do with that."

She pulled back enough to look up at him. "I know but... I don't know, I wish there was some better way, something other than the wall to keep things like Hedge from wreaking havoc in Ancelstierre. I mean, it's no fun dealing with creatures like that here, but at least we know how to deal with them. Minus the limited charter mages, they're virtually defenseless."

He nodded. "Maybe. But I blame Ancelstierrian ignorance for that as well. If we'd at least acknowledge nationally that there IS an Old Kingdom, more people would know about the dangers."

She nodded. "Right." Neither one said anything for a moment. Then Lirael blurted, "before last year it was nightmares about my mother. Usually about her dying a horrible death. That was the usual nightmare." He nodded as though her outburst somehow fit in the conversation. "I hate that I never knew her. That I never... I don't remember how it felt to be loved by her."

"I'm sorry," he said, because he was and because he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"It's not your fault. Just..." she trailed away.

"Yeah." He nodded again as though he understood. "Maybe we can find out what happened to her."

She nodded as well, "I swore to myself I would when we were finished with the Destroyer. But then we had to re-bury him and I had to train with Sabriel and... I just... part of me is afraid to find out. Because if it's really horrible, I'm not sure I could take it. But I know I won't be able to put it out of my mind until I find out."

"Maybe you could use the Dark Mirror?" he suggested.

"Yes," she replied. "Like I said, I've sort of been afraid to find out too. I suppose it's sort of like your old theory about the Dead. If I don't know, it can't hurt me."

"Right," he said nodding again. "Only, belief or no, I still got hurt. A lot of other people did too as a result of my stupidity. This obviously isn't the same, but if it's something that's going to bother you, don't you think it's healthier to confront it?"

She bit her lip, abruptly reminded of how she'd procrastinated the binding of the Stilken in the Clayr's glacier, so many years ago. "Yes," she replied. "But I've been a bit of a coward about it I suppose."

He shook his head. "You're the bravest person I've ever met."

She smiled shyly, and couldn't keep from blushing as she mumbled, not looking at him, "Um... thanks."

He turned red too and looked away. He cleared his throat and said, "Right, well, I can't imagine I'd be any help. But if you need anything, just let me know."

She smiled even more widely and could only imagine another embarrassed, "Thanks."

He quickly withdrew his hands from their previous position around her arms and straightened. He pushed his glasses up, straightened and said, "I suppose it's only proper for me to leave now. Sleep well."

He began to cross the room without a second glance back at Lirael and Lirael, struck by the sudden emptiness she felt in his wake and a sudden feeling of daring she knew wouldn't last if she paused to think about it said, "Nick?"

He stopped and turned. "Yes?"

"I – I need another hug." Her words hung in the air for a moment until Nick cracked a crooked and clearly very self-satisfied grin. Her embarrassment bloomed a fiery blossom all over her cheeks as she quickly tried to amend the statement with, "I mean – I don't really if you don't want but –"

"But?" his grin grew and she inwardly cursed him for that stupid grin.

"You're being mean to me."

He crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. "Am I?"

"Yes," she responded weakly.

His smile twitched. "How so?"

She looked down, unable to keep from smiling herself. It was an odd sensation, being teased after having gone so long without hardly any human interaction at all in the company of the Clayr. And before that, all the teasing from her peers, the taunts about her parentage had been malicious and spiteful. But she knew Nick's jibes and Sam's poking fun in Belisairre, calling her his "old aunt" and even Ellimere's failed attempts at humor had been in attempt to make her smile, and had been borne out of caring, rather than less innocent intentions.

"You're teasing me," she finished lamely.

He gave one nod of his head, his grin still in place. "Well spotted, Miss Lirael. What do you intend to do about it?"

It was one part challenge and two parts shameless flirting and Lirael again had no idea what to do with it. It wasn't at all like being in the Clayr's library where she could just write a note and even now she knew if she could write a note she'd have no idea what to say in it. Writing him the letter after the whole ordeal with the Destroyer had been hard enough, she'd been so self-conscious through the entire act of writing it, she'd nearly forgotten what she'd written it for in the first place.

"I could throw a boat at you," she teased.

He laughed. "As soon as you find one let me know. I'll give you a free shot."

She laughed too but the laughs soon became stifled and Lirael again felt her insides squirming. Here they were again, close enough to touch, to kiss if they wanted to, and yet they seemed hindered, as though there needed to be good reason for them to be close enough to be able to kiss in the first place.

"If the Dog were here she'd bite you."

His eyes traveled to the soapstone statuette and Lirael's eyes followed before meeting his.

"You still miss her, don't you?"

"Yes," Lirael whispered.

He'd finally crossed the room to sit back down next to her, his shoulder warm next to hers.

"That's – that's mostly why I wrote to you so many months ago. I wanted to thank you for, for telling me you met her in Death. And for telling me you saw her happy and healthy looking. I don't know how she's faring in Death, if she's crossed beyond the Ninth Gate or not, but hearing that – it meant a lot to me."

"It only seemed right. Besides, you didn't seem to be in much of a mood to talk so I figured I would."

"It was nice of you."

"Oh, so now I'm nice again. I'm not mean anymore?" The teasing glint was back in his eye.

"I said that it _was_ nice of you. You _were_ nice to me."

"Ah. And now I'm mean?"

She couldn't think of anything to do other than laugh. "Stop it."

"Or what?" he responded, and she recognized the same bravado in his voice she'd heard so many months ago upon their first meeting when she'd basically told him to sit down and shut up. Only this time the situation was so much different. He was closer now, their noses mere inches apart, and Lirael felt her heartbeat quicken.

"Or – or else." She bit her lip, knowing she didn't sound threatening in the least.

"Or else what?" he whispered as he leaned into her, his forehead against hers,

Nick didn't wait for an answer, he closed the distance between their lips and kissed her, her mouth open and soft, their tongues eagerly meeting again, his hand on the small of her back. She let out a small moan and that coupled with the fact that her hands were warm on his neck threatened to make him lose sense of it all. Emboldened by the sound of pleasure he had procured from her, he pulled away slightly to kiss her neck and he was satisfied to find that his efforts were appreciated. Her small gasps made his chest ache for the want of her and after a few more kisses to her neck he met her lips again, their mouths pressing harder against one another now, her hands clutching at his shoulders, his heart beating so wildly he thought it might shatter his ribcage.

And before he could even process what was happening she'd pulled away from him and said, "Or else I won't kiss you anymore."

He blinked and his eyes finally regained their focus. "What?"

Emboldened by her new found ability to tease people in return she leaned in to kiss him again, pulled back, and with a small smile said, "I said, or else I won't kiss you anymore." There was a pause, and Lirael realized that this was the first time since Nick's admission of wanting to kiss her again that either one of them had spoken freely about the fact that they actually did, well, _kiss_. Most times when they'd spent time alone together they'd talked like any other friends, sat in companionable silence, or had simply kissed, as though it were too embarrassing to speak of it or anything else relating to it. The words seemed to have broken some sort of invisible barrier Lirael couldn't place her finger on, and she thought from studying him that perhaps he'd felt something similar.

If he did however, he didn't say so. "No fair," he mumbled, pulling her in for another kiss. But she pulled away.

"I mean it," she said with mock seriousness, all seriousness of the previous comment's supposed barrier-breaking powers forgotten.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Really?" he said with his own mock seriousness. She was aware of how his hand still rested on the hollow of her neck, his thumb still lightly brushing her skin.

"I – yes. Yes really."

He gave a fake pout which badly concealed his grin, but stood and said in his best mock-dejected voice, "I suppose I'd better leave you alone then."

He was to the door again when Lirael burst out, "Nick?"

There was no pout, real or faked this time to mask his grin as he turned. "Yes?"

"Thanks for... for checking on me."

"For inappropriately banging on your door and barging in in the middle of the night? No problem."

She giggled. "No it was – it was nice. Nobody's ever done that for me," she admitted.

He smiled, the brazen facade of unabashed confidence abandoned for a something a little gentler. "Well, to be honest, I don't really make a habit of coming into people's rooms in the middle of the night."

"I'm glad you did this once."

His smile widened. "Me too. Sleep well Lirael."

He was about to pull the door shut behind him when Lirael called again, "Nick?"

"Yes?"

It didn't feel quite right somehow, she wanted to get up and kiss him again, tease him again, tell him not to be afraid anymore, tell him she hadn't really meant any of her teasing, something, anything but none of the words seemed to come.

"Sleep well."

"Sleep well Lirael."

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**Author's Note:** Eh, so I'm not sure how I feel about this last chapter. I was going to try for them being a little more awkward, and believe it or not (I know, I know, it's so cliché!) I never really planned for Lirael's nightmare or Nick's comforting her. But she had the nightmare and then Nick turned out to be less nerdy than I normally envision him and more – well, studly. Lol. But thinking about it I suppose it sort of works since given his background it can be surmised he's used to being social and therefore very socially adept. I also never intended for half the flirting either. I'm still not sure whether I consider it OOC for Lirael to be such a flirt, though I'm hoping her shyness and her thoughts behind the dialogue countered that a little. Anyway, thoughts? Ideas? Opinions? Reviews? All are appreciated :). I'm still not entirely sure where I'm going with this, but I promise, I think I'm getting close to something resembling a plot, lol.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: no ownership here.

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"Good morning."

Lirael gripped the door frame to the dining room as she entered seeing Nick, dressed and in the act of sitting down, to the obvious satisfaction of the sending who'd been impatiently waiting by his seat.

She bit her lip. "Hi."

The sending began setting plates down in front of Nick who, obviously still not accustomed to them muttered an awkward, "Oh... um, thank you," and "thank you, that's quite enough" when the sending had started pouring him something hot to drink. But the sending continued, the cup overflowing, "I said thank you, that's quite enough!" he half shouted, sounding somewhat alarmed.

Lirael giggled and stepped forward and the sending finally relented, opting instead to stand behind the chair at the head of the table it had pulled out and obviously intended for Lirael to sit at.

"Sorry, the sendings can be a bit... well, some are old and senile."

"I noticed," Nick said wiping off the hand that had been holding his cup with his napkin, wincing, and muttering a low, "damnit."

She smiled. "Um – mind if I join you?"

He gave her a somewhat quizzical, wry smile. "It's your house."

"Technically it's Sabriel's."

"It's your to-be house."

"Right." She blushed a little and moved to sit at the seat at the head of the table.

Lirael felt embarrassed for some reason, but Nick did not seem affected.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

She blushed. "After a bit."

"After a certain bothersome fellow finally stopped pestering you?" he grinned up at her.

She smiled. "You weren't bothersome. You were... nice."

The word wasn't lost on his ears. "Nice?" His grin widened.

Her smile widened as well though she couldn't help retreating behind her hair. "Yes. I – it was nice of you. I – I wanted to thank you."

He nodded still smiling, the hint of a blush creeping into his cheeks. "You're very welcome."

Nick surreptitiously studied her while they both ate, at first distracted by the way the light caught in her dark hair. He watched as she nervously parted it with her fingers, a nervous tick of hers he'd noticed on their way back to Belisaire after the ordeal with the Hrule. As he watched, her dark hair fell against the stark contrast to her pale face. He wanted to brush the lock of hair away, and he felt the need to tell her something, phrases empty of the words he couldn't place bubbling up inside him. The toast he was eating stuck in his throat. He found himself almost wishing he'd more eagerly tried his hand at romantic endeavors back in Ancelstierre. He'd had opportunities, debutantes at parties who'd tried to strike up conversation, but then he'd been far more interested in his faulty science and would tell anyone who would listen about it, a topic that often distanced himself from most everyone who'd bothered trying to talk to him in the first place. He hadn't minded then.

Before coming to the Old Kingdom he hadn't the patience or sincere desire to pursue anything. Certainly he'd met young ladies who'd sparked his interest, and the more romantic side of him had hoped to find something, particularly when he'd taken interest in a young assistant librarian he'd taken a liking to at the university in Corvere, but the idea had always come second to his schooling and he'd never bothered to think about it further. For a Sayre there was time for that sort of thing later, not to mention, when the time came for marriage, it had always been implied that the young lady would most likely be hand picked by a family member or members. Before now his lack of romantic experience had never bothered him. Now it did. He found himself wishing that he'd taken notes from Timothy Wallach who'd always been bragging about his adeptness at entertaining members of the opposite sex. Though he thought perhaps that if he had it wouldn't matter now anyway. He didn't want to make small talk and petty jokes, though he had felt sufficiently pleased with the flirting he'd pulled off the night before. But he didn't want just that. He wanted more. Lirael was more, had more to say and he had more he wanted to say to her.

So what exactly were they doing? He wondered, not for the first time. He knew that in Ancelstierre his late night visit to her room would have been deemed most inappropriate and that sex was something not talked about, but frowned upon before marriage. Not that that had happened of course, he thought, blushing inwardly, though he'd have been lying if he said he hadn't thought about making love to Lirael – more often than he ever would have honestly admitted to anyone. He knew the customs surrounding romantic affairs in Ancelstierre, particularly concerning the upper class. But what of those in the Old Kingdom? Whats more, Lirael had mentioned in passing when she'd briefly discussed her parentage that the people in the part of the Old Kingdom where she'd been raised did not traditionally marry. What if she didn't want to marry? Whats more, did he? He found himself suddenly wishing he'd paid attention to conversation in Belisairre, wondering idly if perhaps Sam or Ellimere had ever mentioned anything in relation to how their marriage customs worked. The thought of Sam brought another hot, sick concern swooping into his stomach like a firebird, and it pecked at his insides. Would Sam have anything to say on the subject? He remembered joking to Sam about wanting to see Ellimere, but that had been different. Everything had been different then, and somehow he got the feeling Sam felt more protective of Lirael, as though she were another sister. Keeping their trysts in Belisairre private had been, for Nick at least, one part avoidance of the necessary conversation with Sam that it would almost certainly invoke, and one part due to the fact that Nick hadn't been sure where the trysts were going to lead to begin with, and he'd had an inkling Lirael had felt the same in that regard. He wondered if she still did. Confused and nervous as he was, he felt as though he were coming to a conclusion. He cared for her and wanted to be with her, whatever that meant for her and her country's customs. However, the rationalist inside him felt it prudent to attempt at discovering her thoughts and feelings first before baring his heart to her.

He was so distracted by his thoughts, that when Lirael stood and announced that she was going spend a good part of the day in the library studying a few of the books there, he realized they'd both been silent nearly the entire meal.

"You're welcome to anything you'd like here," she said. "I mean, if you wanted to continue in the library or something else. You can go for a walk outside or anything you'd like. I won't be doing anything terribly interesting here for most of the day. Don't feel you need to stick around."

He nodded. "Thanks."

She made to leave and then stopped suddenly. "I will say though, if you do decide to walk the grounds, do stay away from the well. There would be vines on it. Roses. I think it's sealed but it's... dangerous. Do stay far away, and run towards the house if you catch a scent of rosemary."

He nodded again.

She smiled, nodded as well and made to leave again, this time only getting another three steps further before stopping, turning to face him and saying, "And – do be careful, wherever you decide to wander off to. I think – I think this house has other secrets. Secrets older than even Touchstone. And I don't think all of them are good."

He grinned and stood. "Ah, I see. Can't stand to be without my presence. Very well Miss Lirael. I'll be sure to check in with you every so often, just so you don't have to go so long without me. I do intend to have a look around though, if that's alright with you."

She laughed shyly. "Just be careful. I'd show you around but I'm afraid I'm going to be very busy today. Apart from trying to learn all I can I'm going to try to see if there's anything that can be brought to Belisaire, anything that would be good to have there so they can make a copy."

"Right."

"Not terribly interesting really," Lirael blabbered on, though she had no idea why she was telling him this. "But it's a bit of an old hobby of mine, cataloging books. I sort of got a knack for it when I worked in the Clayr's library. Anyway, do be careful."

And with that she finally disappeared out of the dining room, feeling somewhat embarrassed and silly for her babbling.

Nick continued to sit for a time, idly twirling his fork between his fingers, making the bit of fried egg still left on the fork waiver and dance in a half-nauseating yet somewhat amusing manner. From what he could see through the windows it appeared to be a fresh, sunny day outside and he was curious about the grounds on an island such as this. But Lirael's warning had left him somewhat frightened. Considering all she'd faced, it was obvious she wouldn't fear something to be trifled with and this thought made him uncomfortable. Remembering his blatant refusal to heed warnings about the dangers of the Old Kingdom and the havoc his disbelief had caused, he knew too that disregarding her warning now would be nothing short of idiocy. Still, he reasoned, she would not have said he was free to (carefully) wander if the place weren't mostly safe.

Finally, he decided that if he should run into something dangerous he knew where to find Lirael and, he reasoned, given her experience, she ought to know how to deal with most dangers that could possibly arise.

Standing up before he could contemplate the situation further and become further intimidated by the dangers that might lurk on the island, he exited the dining room, deciding to first explore the outside.

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Author's note: sorry this chapter's so short, I've really reached a bit of a roadblock with this. I thought I'd come close to getting where I wanted to in this story but I simply don't really know how to bring the events about. Anyway, as always, reviews are awesome :)


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